My name is Gana

In the year 1966 after I got through my Higher School Certificate, I came across an advertisement by the Public Services Commission that there were vacancies for Labour    Officers who were then known as Junior Assistant Commissioners. The minimum qualification was a Pass Degree from any Malaysian University. A note following the advertisement mentioned that if there were no sufficient candidates with a Pass Degree, candidates with a Higher School Certificate would also be considered. I held a Higher School Certificate but was employed in a clerical capacity that demanded a School Certificate and felt I should move on. I submitted my application for the posts of an Auditor and a Junior Assistant Commissioner and a Customs Superintendent.  I was successful in obtaining employment as Auditor and a Junior Assistant Commissioner. I did not know what the jobs entailed but accepted the job of Junior Assistant Commissioner because of its high sounding name. In the first month of...

I had recently bought a bicycle with a cycle loan from my Department for which I had to pay RM5/- a month. One day I cycled up to my uncle’s house, parked the bike in the porch of the house. As it was a safe neighbourhood I did not care to lock it and went into my uncle’s place. I came out after half an hour and found my bicycle missing. I reported the loss to the nearest Police Station and was the subject of ridicule at the station as all the policemen who saw me making the report chided me that it was careless people like me who added to their problems. I had to swallow the insults as I had to admit that it was indeed careless of me to park my bicycle unlocked. Despite my loss I had to continue the instalments of RM 5 monthly to my employer to satisfy the loan I had taken. I forgot the loss of my bicycle when I had fully settled my bicycle loan soon after. I applied for a motorcycle loan next after my last instalment for the bicycle loan had been satisfied. This was after two months ...

We come from a poor family and most days there was not much food at home especially during school holidays when my cousins also from poor families came visiting. But our house was located close to a mining pool which had plenty of fish. Most days we used to fish at the pool using hook and line. This was a slow process as the fish learnt to avoid food dangling from a line. We then cycled 12 miles to a town known as Batu Gajah. This was a mining area with a lot of disused mining pools and streams abound with fish. Instead of baiting fish with hook and line, we blocked the flow of water by building barricades using pebbles, stones and mud. Once the barricade was up, it would stop the flow of water leaving the area behind the barricade with very little water. The fish behind the barricade would be gasping for air and it was easy to pick them    up. We would throw the tiny ones back into the water and grab the larger ones into a wicker basket to cook them at home. Sometimes we did ...

In my service as a Labour Officer, I heard all sorts of tales, told by the large and varied cast of employees who walked into the Labour Department with their complaints. This is one of those tales. An Indian employee has been employed by a tin miner, The miner had a number of employees who were provided with board and lodging at the tin mine. His favorite was an Indian employee who had earned his trust over the years. Being rich he had a number of wives and houses in town. His latest acquisition was a young woman who was attracted to his money and the lifestyle it had brought. Being the youngest and the most beautiful in his collection the miner was attracted to her and allowed her to indulge in her fancies.    He bought her an apartment in town    and was happy with the purchase as it was very comfortable and he could brag to his friends of his new status of living in a posh area in town well known for housing the wealthy. The new wife was not happy going around in...

We had in our employ a senior clerk who was a bachelor in his forties.  He was always short of money. To make matters worse, he was in charge of the petty cash amounting to about RM500.00. The petty cash was monies entrusted to the Labour Department to pay South Indian laborers    who called at the office and declared that they had no money to return home to India.    As he was the sole employee we could not cause surprise checks and on days of Audit he would ensure that everything is in order. Only after the inspections would we know that he had taken temporary loans from colleagues to top up the petty cash box.  On one of my surprise checks I discovered no payments had been given to an elderly man who used to call at the office regularly for about three months. I inquired why the particular    elder had not collected his dues. The clerk replied that the elder had passed away and no payments could be made. I told him to make a note in the registe...

During my labour office days, I once had to visit a sawmill that was located away from town. When I reached the mill I was directed to an office. I asked the receptionist for the Manager’s whereabouts. She then directed me to a shipping container (which had been converted to an office) located behind the sawmill. I thought that was a sensible thing as the sawmill was a noisy spot with circular saws and the sounds of falling logs were causing quite a din. As I approached the container the door opened. The occupants may have been alerted that I was looking for the manager. But the man who extended his hand was clad in a cotton shorts and an open neck singlet. I identified myself and told him I was looking for the manager. He grinned exposing a few gold colored teeth and said he was the manager. He had guessed I had my doubts because of his attire. He went on to explain that it was a hot day and that there was a malfunction of the air conditioner in the container. The fans in the containe...

When I reported for work one morning, I was surprised to see two young Chinese men seated outside my office. The Office Asisstant informed me that the two men insisted on meeting me and did not wish to talk to other Officers. I invited them into my room and asked them the purpose of their visit. They said they are from the same village, friends for a long time and worked for a coffee shop in town for a number of years. That morning they had a misunderstanding over a girl who hails from the same village. Both of them were in the kitchen area of the Coffee shop. One of them was making coffee while the other was spreading butter and jam onto a slice of bread. That misunderstanding escalated    into a fight; when the guy spreading butter on to bread got angry with his friend’s remark, pulled down his shorts and revealed his private parts to the friend. The friend who was making coffee poured the steaming coffee over the exposed friends manhood. The injured man cried out in pain...